My Diamond
by Blue James Black
Summary: After the death of Satine, Harold feels guilty and wants to throw in the towel. A short OS about Zidler's thoughts. Translated by Elysian III


**Title:**My Diamond

**Author****:** AimeeMagnus1850

**Fandom****:** Moulin Rouge!

**Genre/ Pairing****:** Drama, Harold Zidler

**Summary****:** After the death of Satine, Harold feels guilty and wants to throw in the towel. A short OS about Zidler's thoughts. Translated by Elysian III

**Disclaimer****:** Unfortunately, I don't own the wonderful world of Moulin Rouge; it belongs to Baz Luhrmann

**Author's Note****: **Hello Darlings ! This is my first Moulin Rouge OS. I recently saw the movie and fell under its spell. My Harold is a little OOC, but I hope you like him all the same. Translated by Elysian III

** Happy Reading **

**and **

**Don't forget to review!**

* * *

><p><strong>My Diamond<strong>

She was gone. My sparkling diamond had joined the stars, leaving the Moulin Rouge behind. She'd been an employee like all the others, but I was attached to her. Her death devastates me, though of course I don't let it show. In the Moulin Rouge, her presence is everywhere. It would be too hard to live there anymore. I'll sell it and disappear, hide away in the Paris slums. I'd stolen first her life, then her love for Christian—all in the name of the Moulin Rouge. In reality, it had all been for me. She was beautiful and she brought in a bundle. I'd wanted to change the image of the Moulin Rouge, to make it as radiant as Satine. The Duke and his money would have made it all possible, but Satine paid the price for my actions. Night after night, I sold her to the richest men in the Moulin Rouge. It was all my fault. If I hadn't sought to transform the dance hall into a theatre, Satine would have never met the Duke and the Duke would never have become obsessed with Satine. None of this would have happened. Even without the events of the last few weeks she would have died all the same, but she would have been free to live out her love story with Christian.

I'd always known that I was a monster, but I'd never imagined to what extent. Love is the most beautiful thing in the world, and I had stolen it away from someone I cared about. Even worse, I'd stolen it from someone who was dying.

The Moulin Rouge would survive Satine's death, but would it survive my departure? It would be the end of the Moulin Rouge if I left. Who would want a dance hall that looked like a theatre? Who would want a theatre in the middle of Montmartre? My dancers would find themselves on the streets, vulnerable and unprotected. The Moulin Rouge is a safe haven for them. The nighttime streets are full of wrongdoers; death by psychopath is all but certain for these girls. But can I stand to live in a place that practically breathes with the memory of this rare flower, who knocked on my door one winter's night? I have to leave. I have to. The image of Santine haunts the whole place. Her voice echoes throughout the performance hall, and her laugh can still be heard in the wings. At night, the trapeze—_her_ trapeze—sparkles like diamonds. My diamond angel reigns in all her splendor over the Moulin Rouge and its occupants.

I think back over the last few weeks and a phrase comes to mind—a phrase Satine had sung, spoken and even shouted in the Moulin Rouge. I must not abandon the Moulin Rouge. Even without my diamond, I have to go on. I must honor her memory. I must carry on for her.

I leave my office and join the dancers, who are gathered together in the performance hall. They are all upset, their eyes red from crying. Silence has replaced the applause and accolades that followed the first and only performance of Spectacular Spectacular. The dancers don't look at me when I enter. I climb onto the stage and shout, "The show must go on!" They raise their heads. Some stand and repeat the words, which ring out like a motto for the Moulin Rouge. Several moments pass and then everyone is standing. Everyone is speaking the words in chorus. This phrase is in homage to my magnificent Satine, who sacrificed everything for the Moulin Rouge. This phrase is Satine.

**Thanks for reading! **


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